The Last Sister (Columbia River)(27)

“Nate needed to get away after his shitty morning yesterday,” Daigle explained.

“How’d you get in the house?” Zander asked.

“Door was unlocked. I rang the bell, and no one answered. I could see—see him through the window, so I opened the door.”

“Copeland ever say anything in the past that made you worry for him?” Zander continued.

“No, sir. I understand what you’re asking. I never dreamed this would happen in a million years. I’d say I’m his closest friend, and I never saw this coming. If he had depression, he never told me about it.”

“Many people won’t discuss it,” Ava said quietly. “Even with their closest friends or family. We’ll check for some antidepressants.”

“I can’t believe he did this knowing I’d be the one to find him,” mumbled Daigle. “Fucker.” He wiped an eye.

Ava’s eyes were gentle. “Maybe he trusted you.”

“Still sucks. Never gonna get that out of my head.” He glanced briefly at the body and shuddered.

The sheriff raised a brow at Zander and Ava. They nodded. “You can go, son,” he told the deputy. “We’ll talk later.”

Daigle left without a word.

“Has anyone reached Copeland’s parents?” Zander asked.

“I left a vague message for them to call me. Nothing yet,” answered Greer. “Let’s take a quick look around.”

The three of them split up. Zander took the single bathroom, where he checked the medicine cabinet and under the sink. He found medication containers, but the names on them were John and Helen Copeland. Except for a blood pressure prescription, he wasn’t familiar with the names of the drugs.

“Nothing in the bedrooms,” stated the sheriff as he walked down the hall.

“No medication in the kitchen,” Ava said from the rear of the house. “But come take a look at this.”

Zander and Greer joined her in the kitchen, where she stood in front of the open refrigerator. “See that?” She pointed at a six-pack of Miller Lite on the top shelf. “It’s right next to an unopened container of ranch dip.” She gestured at the counter, where three bags of potato chips sat next to a small cooler. “Looks like he intended to go somewhere today.”

“Like to hang with a buddy at the beach.” Greer swore under his breath.

Zander opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out the trash. He carefully dug through the top items with gloved hands and found what he was looking for. A receipt for beer, chips, dip, and a bag of ice. “Is there a new bag of ice in the freezer?”

Ava checked. “Yep.”

The three of them exchanged a long look.

“By the way, the prescription containers I found have different names on them,” Zander said. “John and Helen Copeland?”

“Those are his parents.” The sheriff was grim. “I’ve known both of them for over twenty years. Telling them is going to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.” His face sagged.

“We can—” Ava started.

Greer raised his hand to stop her. “I’ll talk to his parents. It’s best coming from someone they know.” He paused. “Not that there’s any good way to deliver this news.”

Zander stepped closer to the others and lowered his voice. “There’s a good possibility this isn’t a suicide.”

Emotions struggled on the sheriff’s face, and he rubbed his temple. “I’m trying to keep an open mind, but I don’t like what you’re implying. I know this community.”

“This crime could have come from outside your community,” Zander said.

“But why?” Greer’s voice cracked.

“If we knew that, we’d have our murderers,” answered Ava. “Whether it’s homegrown or not, something is rotten in this little town.”

“And I don’t think it’s over,” Zander said slowly. He had no basis for the statement; it was his gut speaking.

The look in Ava’s eyes told him she agreed.





12

The handle to the Anita Haircut salon’s door was in Emily’s grip when someone behind her called her name. She turned away and clenched her teeth as she spotted who had spoken.

Leann Windfield.

Leann was a reporter for the county’s online newspaper and liked to poke and pester Emily’s family. Leann had used her job to write several articles about the Bartons, framing them as historical pieces while emphasizing that the Barton family had always been self-centered and money hungry. She presented the history in such a way that her opinions appeared based on fact. The problem was that Leann had cherry-picked her facts, leaving out anything good the Bartons had accomplished.

Leann had been in Emily’s high school class, but they hadn’t had the same circle of friends. They could have ignored each other all four years, but for a reason Emily never understood, Leann had singled out Madison for harassment.

Even in high school, Madison had continued to be quiet and keep to herself. To students who strove to meet the status quo, she was a perceived as an oddity. They didn’t understand her, so they picked on her. It was like when a pack of wolves attacks a pure white wolf for his difference. Mean girls ran in packs, and Leann was the head bully, bolstered by her group of followers.